#adoptive dad

One step at a time I will reach you, To my Dearest son. I Hope, no. I Know you will re-build our whole world. One step at a time So may the treasures I find benefit you.

I may never know when you will wake from the stone, but you will inherit this world, Senku. You bring back the modern age I just know it. And may their descendants provide you with company and friendship.

The stars are beautiful tonight, I bet you will say "The stars are like our sun but 1million light years away that's why they look small" or something like.

I hope to see fireworks again, with you one final time.

I hope you find peace and mind Senku.

And re-build a paradise.

As he groaned and picked himself up, he felt a scaled tail whack across the back of his thighs. "Aren't cats supposed to land on their feet," he heard Raiden chide.

Y'zel folded his ears then looked up at the Au Ra, bearing his fangs while letting his tail slide across the snowy planks. His eyes went to the man's claymore.

"Don't give it a second thought. You've not the grit for it," the man scoffed before reaching down to scruff his teen Miqo'te son and pull him to his feet. "Not yet at least."

"If you'd just get me my own sword I could-" the boy started, fur still bristled.

"Couldn't hit the broad side of a Chocobo. You've done enough for today. Let's go to the Croizer and see if we can find you a new coat," Raiden grumbled as he turned to ascend towards the aetheryte plaza. "I wish your growth spurt would have held off until you were employable. We'll probably be eating porridge for moons on end after this.."

Y'zel lowered his ears. "Sorry, father."

The Au Ra didn't turn, opting once more to strike the other's thigh, gently, with his tail. "Don't apologize. If I didn't want to take care of you I'd have left you in the snow for dead."

Quietly, the two drifted upward, people taking extra effort to move out of their path, wary of the dark knight and his young ward. As they climbed higher, the looks of disgust and ire increased, many whispering and pointing. As Y'zel felt their eyes upon him, his father's strong scaled hand pushed him to his side. "Heed them not."

Arriving in the Pillars, they walked through the merchant district together and walked to the market board. The man fished out his coin purse and then placed it in his hand. "You're to get a new coat and some oats for dinner. No books or anything unnecessary today."

"Yes sir,' the' Miqo'te answered with a nod of his head.

"Stop pouting. You had one tumble," the Au Ra gruffed before taking his hand affectionately through the boy's hair. "Go on, I want to get back before sundown."

Nodding, Y'zel slid out of the weighted pack, letting the man dump several large stones from it as he turned to go shopping. His tail flicked happily, as he first went to the bookshop, nose pressing against the glass before getting a sour look from the elzen proprietress in the back. He drooped his ears and then rubbed the window clean with his sleeves before scampering off to the tailors.

The wind howled between buildings as entered the store, pulling the door shut behind him with a rather loud slam. Startled, he looked to the elderly Elzen tailor apologetically who gave him a small chuckle in turn. "It's just a door boy, come in. Come in. "

Meekly, Y'zel entered and followed the man inside. "You're Obinata's boy, right? I don't even think it's been a moon cycle since you were here last. You're growing so fast...but you are at that age. I imagine you're after another new coat for this blustery never ceasing winter. Bless Halone that we took well to the cold Bauhmaut brought," he rambled, starting to rake through a rack of heavy woolen coats before picking one out.

"This is what all the young men are asking for, furred collars and bright reds...," he started before holding a coat up. "Ah, but alas you are a bit more petite than many of my customers your age so the reds are going to be a bit brighter and the fur a bit less pronounced."

Y'zel grimaced a bit. The coat, as the man said, was lightly fluffy and red; however, it was patterned with black silhouettes of spears around the edges, designed for the younger Elzen boys that were his size. He held his criticism back, the kind old man carefully fitting it around him. He stood quietly as buttons were adjusted and the hem raised, nary making noise until the man gave a tug at his tail to feed it through a cut opening in the back.

"There my boy. You look like a million Gil," he praised before shuffling to his counter. Y'zel pulled Raiden's coin purse out, ready to pay the man.

"Put that away, boy. Your father helped retrieve my wools and leathers arrived after that last dastardly assault from the dragons on the merchant route. They say he slayed the whole brood single-handedly. I'll just keep your old cost and resell it as payment."

The boy's eyes widened a bit from the story. He knew his father picked up jobs as an adventurer, but the man seldom told him stories of his conquests. "Um. Sir. Why can't he come into the shop if he helped you?"

The man looked at the boy and then stroked his chin with a sigh. "Young man, Raiden Obinata is always welcome in my store. He chooses not to enter because he feels that my business will suffer for it."

"Because he's an Au Ra...," Y'zel responded bitterly, ears flattening.

"Yes, boy. That is the awful truth of it. I'm afraid war has brought out the worst in us. It has frozen many hearts and clouded the people's eyes. They see what they want to see and not what's there."

The Elzen let out a deep sigh. "But your father is always welcome in my shop. If anyone takes issue, I'm sure they can find another shop. Please let him know that, he may listen to his son.”

The boy perked up, ears wiggling in delight. "I will mister! Next time tell me more about my father’s adventures!"

"If that's your wish,I will ask around and tell you on your next visit," the man answered with a nod.

Y'zel gave a wave then headed back out into the streets. The wind blew harder as dusk oranged the spires above. His coat held firm, keeping him nice and insulated for his trip to the food stall.

Arriving, he shyly waited in line, gazing longingly at the bookshop, and as he drew closer, a string of salted fish flapping around in the back of the culinarian's stall. He gulped as he fumbled with the coin purse. He didn't pay for the coat...so there'd be extra money in it. His father wouldn't know...maybe. Shaking the thought from his head, he straightened up and waited for his turn, picking up a small box of oats to pay for before hearing a laugh.

"Look, it's the wittle kitty cat picking out his kibble," a boy mocked.

Glaring, Y'zel turned to see one of his Elzen highborn schoolmates with his entourage pointing at him. His ears perked and his tail thrashed violently, but he held his tongue.

"What's wrong? Are you gonna scratch me," the boy mocked.

The Miqo'te turned then glared at the ground, trying to keep peace of mind as he heard mocking meows and hisses slung his way. As he moved to the next spot in line, he readied his package, putting it on the counter as the attendant wrapped food for an Elzen lady.

"Ha! Look, oats! The dragon is fattening the fleabag up to eat him," the Elzen boy pointed out before roaring with laughter among his friends.

That did it. Y'zel hissed and tensed up then found himself plunging onto his schoolmate. Straddled on the boy's stomach he swung his fists down. "MY. DAD. IS. NOT. A. DRAGON! HE. IS. A. HERO," he screamed, each word punctuated with a swing of his fists.

The surrounding boys tried to pull the Miqo'te off, only to be met with bites and scratches. The adults around made a fuss but did little to get in the way of the scuffle. Y'zel's vision blurred, tears streaming down his face as he whaled on the bully, crying out as the others kicked him and then started to yank on his ears and tail. Before his arms could get weak he was roughly pulled back by the hood of his coat.

"ENOUGH," his father roared.

The boys scattered while the surrounding adults whispered and glowered at the pair. Reaching down, Raiden pulled the Elzen boy to his feet. "Go home," he ordered.

The swollen-faced boy ran off crying, leaving the Au Ra to retrieve his coin purse and pay for the oats in silence before carrying Y'zel off back towards Foundation. The walk was silent, Y'zel slung over the man's back, watching as little drops of blood ran off his cheek and to the stone pathway below. Arriving at their shanty of a home, the Miqo'te was tossed onto his bed before his dad went to boil some water.

Sniffling, the boy hugged his knees and rubbed his eyes into them. His quiet blubbering continued, Raiden actively ignoring it until the hiccups kicked in. "Enough with the tears. We have enough leaks in here as it is," he teased, though voice flat.

Y'zel took in a deep breath wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his new coat. "Am I in trouble," he asked, having noted his father's voice.

"You'll reap what you've sewn with those boys in time. Though they might think twice after the licking you gave to that little lordling."

Y'zel nodded, though the gesture was lost with his father's back to him. The wind howled through Brume, rattling their makeshift steak roof, threatening to dust in some snow. As the water grew to a bubble, Raiden tilted back his head. "I didn't train you to start fights. Self-defense Ze, self-defense."

The Miqo'te fell to his side and then turned to lay out in his belly. "They called you a dragon. They said you wanted to eat me..."

"Let them talk. I've yet to be punctured by words."

"It's not fair though! Mister...Mister Tailor said that you go out to help people and are a hero! You slay dragons and keep us safe! They shouldn't treat you bad," he nearly shouted as he pushed himself up off the bed.

"Mister Tailor," Raiden repeated quizzically, taking a moment to suss out the boy's meaning. "I see. A hero is his actions. I do not need you to be a minstrel for my work. I am compensated well enough to take care of you and myself, without the need for fanfare. I simply do my job."

"But everyone thinks you're a dragon..."

"Am I a dragon?"

"No."

"Then everyone that matters does not think so."

Y'zel grew quiet then curled up and turned to face the wall as his father scooped oats into the boiling pot.

"Even if you were a dragon... you'd still be my dad...and my hero..."

Y'zel's ears twitched as he heard a wooden spoon drop. He looked over his shoulder, watching as the man looked up to the ceiling for a moment before bending down to retrieve the spoon. "We seem to have some extra Gil. I'll let you go to the bookstore tomorrow...and treat you to some fish."

---

The girl’s eyes were barely open as Melvin sat her down on a chair next to the tub. Florence had no energy- she hadn’t had any for days. The lymph nodes on her neck were swollen, her throat hurt, and she had blotchy white spots on her tonsils. Mononucleosis, Melvin had said.

The smell of eucalyptus filled the air as Melvin knelt down next to the tub, making sure the bath salts were nice and dissolved, and that plenty of oils had been added to clear out his daughter’s sinuses. Florence could merely watch, melting into the cushions of the chair. She felt herself dozing.

“Oh dear, you certainly are warm,” Melvin said, just a few inches from Florence’s face. One of his large hands had pressed against her forehead, and begun to brush hair from away from her eyes. “Let’s get you undressed and in the tub, sweetheart.”

Florence’s eyes cracked open, and she began to weakly pick at the sleeves of her shirt, hoping to get a good grip on them and pull it over her head. However, her efforts were pathetic and futile, and before she knew it, she had given up and began to start dozing off again. She just wanted to go back to bed.

“Sorry, papa…I can’t figure it out…”

“Not a problem, dear. I’ll help you.”

With gentle hands, Florence was maneuvered out of her clothes, and carefully walked over to the tub. Before she knew it, she was up to her chin in warm water. The smell of eucalyptus and lavender enveloped her like a warm hug.

“Smells so good,” she dreamily whispered.

The sensation only got better when Melvin placed a warm washcloth over her eyes.

“Does that feel nice?” he asked.

Florence smiled and slowly nodded.

“It does.”

Melvin pulled the shower curtain shut to help keep the steam inside with Florence.

“Are you leaving?” The feverish girl asked.

“Heavens, no. I wouldn’t want you falling asleep in there and getting a mouthful of water,” Melvin said reassuringly.

“Oh….good. I would be scared if you did.”

“No, no. I’m staying. I’m just going to let you soak for a time— let all that steam loosen up your head. However, would you be offended if I watered the porcelain flower real quickly?”

Florence’s brain did not process what Melvin was saying in the slightest. Flowers? He didn’t have any potted flowers in here, did he?

“At night…? Papa, you already watered your garden…I thought. And…? It’s raining, isn’t it…?”

Melvin couldn’t contain his laughter at the girl’s confusion. It was an adorable and innocent mistake. He felt bad for giggling, but it was too funny not to.

“I’m sorry dear, I’m not laughing at you. You’re just so sweet, and confused. I meant to ask if it were alright if I used the bathroom. I hadn’t the chance before your fever got bad.”

“….Oh.” Florence paused and smiled briefly before her expression fell back into one of blank exhaustion. “Go ahead. Just….don’t leave, please.”

“I’m not leaving you. I’m staying right here.”

Florence began to think as she lied in the still water of her bath. The entire bathroom was quiet other than Melvin rustling about across the room. The fact that the man had denied himself something so simple as using the bathroom for her own sake sat in her chest and tickled her heart with anxiety. It made her wonder what other things he denied himself of for her.

Before she knew it, she had tears pricking her eyes as her nose ran. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but she had begun to cry a little. Her head hurt and her throat hurt even more with the extra mucus agitating it.

After a few moments, Melvin had come back, and pulled the curtain back a few inches. Just enough so he could see Florence’s face.

“Sweets, why are you crying?” he asked as he pulled the washcloth off of her eyes and wiped her nose with it. “Are you feeling worse?”

“No,” Florence whispered, shaking her head softly. “No…I was just thinking and wondering if maybe…you ever have second thoughts.”

“About what?”

“…taking me in.”

Melvin reached for a cup and dipped it in the water before wetting Florence’s hair and head with it.

“No, never,” he said nonchalantly. “Not even once.”

Florence opened one dark eye and looked at him. His expression was genuine, and full of nothing but pure love.

“Even though it’s hard work? And you can’t do everything you want to….?”

Melvin pumped a few pumps of shampoo into his hands and began massaging it onto Florence’s scalp. His nails felt so good on her head. She loved getting her hair washed.

“Yes. I love the hard work, and I can still do everything I want to, with you. My little Sunny. Little light of my life.

“Now tilt your head back. We don’t want soap getting in your eyes when we rinse.”

Florence felt the warm water wash the soap from her head as Melvin combed his claws gently through her tangled tresses. He did it so lovingly, and took his time.

“This is what I want to be doing,” Melvin spoke after some time. “Taking care of my little girl when she needs me.”

Florence was satisfied with that answer. It made her much calmer for the remainder of her bath. Getting out, drying off, and dressing was all a blur. But what wasn’t, was Melvin carrying her into the kitchen and making himself a cup of tea, before bringing her to the couch and holding her while he drank it and read a book.

“Do you want me to tuck you into bed?” Melvin asked after some time. “Perhaps you would be comfier there.”

Florence only responded by turning and burying her face deeper into his shirt.

“Understood,” he whispered, smiling.

Carefully, he lied down on the couch and pulled up a blanket over himself and Florence, who was now lying on his stomach and chest. Melvin reached back and turned out the lamp.